A New Routine
by Mustang-bex1126
Summary: Torchwood 3 finds a balance and life returns to normal at least by Torchwood standards.  But are things as good as they seem?  Follows To Err is Human and Boxed Lives.


Ianto hadn't any desire to take up with Torchwood as a field agent, but after the departure of Owen, Jack had left him little choice. He had insisted that, after many unsuccessful interviews, it was simply easier to request a new assistant from Central than to try and recruit somebody worthy. Besides, they already had a Doctor- Tosh disliked autopsies, but she was more than capable of doing them. So Ianto permanently moved out of the upstairs office, and to the unoccupied workstation nearest Jack's office.

He leaned over his workstation struggling to make sense of varied spectrometer readings from a sludge Jack and Tosh had returned from Swansea with two days previously.

"Shite." Ianto said under his breath.

"What's that Ianto?" He gave a startled flinch at the sound of Jack's voice. Looking at Jack, he wrinkled his brow in annoyance. Jack was full of glee at catching him off guard. 

"Shite, sir. It appears that the sample you and Tosh collected is animal waste."

"Not toxic then?" Jack picked up the specimen jar.

"No more than normal, sir."

Jack chuckled. "Fantastic. So, do we know what animal produced this shit yet?" He was simply having too much fun with the situation.

"Not yet. The readings indicate that the animal is not carbon based- definitely extra terrestrial."

Jack was examining the substance in the sample jar with some interest. "Non-carbon based? Well that should certainly narrow it down. Catch!"

To Ianto's horror Jack tossed the sample at him. He recovered from the shock just in time to catch it before it smashed on the floor; he fired another annoyed look off at Jack.

"Nice catch." Jack responded to Ianto's frustration with his patented 10,000-watt smile.

Ianto sighed and placed the sample back on the table. "Please don't throw my samples, sir." A knowing smile glided over his face. "I'm not supposed to have to clean up after your shit anymore, remember?"

"Ah yes." Jack chuckled and smiled again. His attention shifted as he reached his hand to his ear, "Lane? I think we'll have takeaway for lunch again. Be a doll and pick up some Indian?"

Jack listened for a moment, nodding his head in response. A smile spread over his face again, "perfect." He glanced at Ianto. "That would be great. Uh-huh, of course, I'll tell her, she's very understanding." He hung up.

"Tosh?" His voice echoed for a moment.

Tosh emerged from the autopsy room. "Yes Jack?"

"Lane says the cleaner was unable to get the entrails off of your shoes. The replacements she ordered will be here on Tuesday."

"Shit," she muttered under her breath.

Jack turned away from Tosh's deepening frown and came face to face with Ianto's scowl. "Cheer up, Ianto, Lane's also going to pick up some Starbucks while she's out." Jack's face broke out in a wicked smile.

Ianto's eyes widened dramatically. "Like hell she is." He grabbed his jacket and rushed from the room. "I hate that shit." 

With lunch out of the way and the coffee crisis averted, Ianto gazed around the devastated conference room. There were crumpled napkins and discarded containers scattered amongst abandoned coffee mugs, all with varying levels of stale coffee staining the insides. A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he began stuffing the waste into a large bin-bag.

"Ianto," Jack said sternly from the doorway, startling him again.

"Sir, I wish you wouldn't sneak up on me. I'm just doing a bit of tidying--"

"Ianto," Jack came into the room and took the bag from his hands, "this is not your responsibility anymore. I like you for your big, beautiful brain now and not just how good you look in suits." He smirked and waggled his eyebrows.

Ianto hung on to his disappointed look for a second longer before pouting, "field work has already ruined two suits."

Jack laughed openly at that, and at the sly smile that crept over Ianto's features. Jack gripped him on either shoulder and they left the room.

"Not the cute suit though, right?" Jack's eyebrows went up.

"No, sir. I take particularly good care of that one," Ianto paused for effect, "if you promise to keep Lane away from the coffee machine, I'll wear it tomorrow." He stopped in his tracks, and turned to face Jack, slowly bringing his eyes up to meet his twinkling gaze.

"Ianto-" Jack said flatly. He shook his head, a knowing, and mischievous smile belying his composed tone.

Ianto raised his eyebrows, subtly, but he knew Jack saw it; he'd definitely won this round. He watched as Jack bit his lower lip, trying to reign in his imagination.

After a few more beautiful seconds of watching Jack struggle, Ianto was a little sad to see him regain his unflappable demeanor. "Oh Ianto, you are good. All right, you've got a deal. You can keep making the coffee, but only if you swear not to spend your valuable time sneaking around here, cleaning."

Ianto frowned and let out a defeated sigh.

"Ah ha!" Jack grinned, "you thought you'd won, didn't you? Mr. Jones, I thought you knew me better," he clapped Ianto on the back.

"Right, sir, I won't underestimate you again. Shall we get back to work?"

They stopped in front of Ianto's workstation. "Right, I need you to get the results of your analysis to Tosh so she can start comparing the characteristics to information in the archives- lets see if we can't figure out what's roaming our neck of the woods? Also, I need to see the most recent numbers on the rift. Maybe whatever it is, it's come through recently, and I want to watch to make sure nothing else has decided to stop in for a visit."

"Anything else, sir?" Ianto took a seat in his rolling chair and turned it to face Jack.

"Well, I have a couple of things, but one of them is entirely inappropriate." He smiled. "So we'll skip to the most important thing of all: Is the coffee fresh?"

Ianto smiled warmly. "Yes sir, I put on a fresh pot right after lunch. Your thermal mug is on your desk."

"Ah Ianto, you spoil me…" Jack said, clapping his hands together, "that should get me through my call with the Prime Minister, thankfully." He gave Ianto's shoulder another squeeze and mounted the stairs.

Ianto turned back to his desk and began shuffling some papers. He frowned again, searching for some numbers he'd run earlier. He noticed them under the edge of his keyboard and mouse pad and pulled them free. The movement deactivated the screensaver- a dialogue box was flashing in the upper right corner. Ianto squinted and leaned in anticipating some news that would cause him to ruin another suit.

He was surprised, but glad to see it was just the site-to-site messaging system.

_Torchwood 2 requesting connection - approve or deny?_

Ianto pulled his chair in tighter and clicked 'approve'.

_Torchwood Two connection, run connection test. Connection secure. Now connected, Torchwood Two, online E.Green, online I.Jones._

I.Jones: Hullo Erin, what can big brother do for you today?

E.Green: I've some test results we need analyses run on- Central is backed up 3  
weeks. Do you have a free moment?

I.Jones: We're always ready to help.

Receiving file- mysteryshit.twp

I.Jones: Mystery shit? I don't think that follows proper file name protocol… tsk

E.Green: I have to amuse myself somehow

I.Jones: Ah- things going badly up there?

E.Green: No- I mean… Whatever you lot did with the rift? It's been spitting up more trouble all over since then, and I HATE field work. Jack said this was strictly an office job. (

I.Jones: Dear Lord, not the frowny face! I believe I had the very same conversation with him.

E.Green: Ah, Captain Jack… can't live with him, can't kill him.

E.Green: Going to the match this weekend?

I.Jones: If the world is still here when the weekend comes; I have Priority Tickets.

E.Green: Ooh! Lucky, I'll be watching from home.

I.Jones: Alone?

E.Green: No, Charlie will be here.

I.Jones: The goldfish doesn't count. What about mates?

E.Green: Well, my friends and family think I'm dead, none of you are supposed to know what happened to me, and… I guess that's really it.

I.Jones: It's been months now- you should make new friends. And don't be bitter, it's unattractive.  
E.Green: P Feh on cheeriness. 

E.Green: Wait, I have a question…

E.Green: Doesn't Jack know we talk? We work for the same organization…

I.Jones: Well, Jack isn't stupid, and he certainly doesn't think that I'm stupid…

I.Jones: I'm rather sure he knew I'd find out what happened to you. It seems that as long as I delete these records, and don't say anything about it to him or the others he'll look the other way.

E.Green: Ah, secrets…

I.Jones: Just another day for Torchwood. I've your results now-

Sending file- analyzedshite.twp

E.Green: Ooh, you're a clever one. Alight, I suppose I ought to go back to work- damn it. Have fun at the match, yeah?

I.Jones: If we win I'll call you

I.Jones: Pissed…

I.Jones: Singing...

I.Jones: and perhaps wearing my trousers inside out.

E.Green: That would be a sight- I'll be around, same bat time, same bat channel.

I.Jones: …

I.Jones: Good evening Erin.

E.Green: Ciao bello!

Connection Terminated.

Ianto leaned back in his computer chair. He stared at the conversation window for a moment longer: something was going on. Back in his days at Torchwood One there had been many jokes at the expense of Torchwood Two and Torchwood Three. With the Canary Warf incident, and the implosion of One, Three had become the lead, hell _only_, field organization. Central had been only the lab and the board of directors, but Three had their own lab, and rarely ever contacted them. Yes, something was definitely going on. The backed up lab and the additional staff in Scotland really only meant one thing: Torchwood was expanding.

Ianto stared at the dialogue box that had popped up on his monitor, all that was left was for him to depress the mouse button and accept the alterations to the log. His hand lingered on the mouse, the curser hovering over the accept button. Ianto furrowed his brow, thinking carefully before canceling the changes and printing out the conversation. He rushed to fetch the pages from the printer before anyone else could see them and checked that they were correct. Satisfied, he returned to his workstation and finished altering the records. Ianto glanced around the room to make sure he wouldn't be disturbed before sliding down to the floor and laying on his back, staring at the underside of his desk.

Quietly and carefully Ianto worked a Tyvek packet from between the keyboard drawer and the underside of the desk. He undid the flap and slid the printouts in on top of a stack of papers before quickly sealing the packet up and stowing it in its hiding place.

"Ianto?" Tosh asked questioningly from directly above him. Ianto smacked his head on the underside of his desk.

"Ow!" He ducked out once more, and sat on the floor rubbing his head. "Hello Tosh , can I help you?"

"Are you alright? I didn't mean to startle you." She crouched down beside him. "What were you doing under here?"

Ianto rushed to his feet, not wanting to give her any excuse to poke around under his desk. "Oh nothing, just kicked a cable loose- had to get down underneath to see properly."

Tosh flashed a warm smile. "Not much room for your long legs under there," she said, allowing him to help her to her feet.

"No, I'm afraid not. But, it's much better than having to answer another call in the field. Do you think that I'd be allowed to stay in if I shot myself in the foot?"

Tosh let a amuse chuckle escape. "No, no Ianto, I think he'd very disappointed to have you out of commission."

"I suppose you're right." Ianto sighed. "Coffee?"

"Ianto, your coffee should be illegal." She walked towards the kitchen. Ianto shot a final nervous look at his workstation before following. 


End file.
